


Just Another Day In The Mojave

by doormakerguy



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Marriage, and that's okay, dogs are good but some people don't like them, opinions on dogs, unusual sleeping schedules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:31:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doormakerguy/pseuds/doormakerguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trudy and her wife Sunny Smiles have a normal day, uninterrupted by gangsters, Deathclaws, or couriers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Day In The Mojave

1AM: Sunny gets up, quietly, tucking the blankets around Trudy so she won't wake up. She finds the most geckos at night, when they wander the brush looking for radscorpions and roaches to eat. Plus, most of the human predators - Powder Gangers, Jackals and Vipers - are asleep, and if they happen to be awake, Sunny can easily give them the slip in the dark. She puts on her armor, loads her rifle, and straps a skinning knife to her belt. There's a bottle of water and a box of snack cakes that Trudy left on the kitchen table for her, enough to tide her over until breakfast. Sunny quietly opens the door, with Cheyenne silently following her out into the wasteland.

6AM: Trudy wakes up the same way she always wakes up: to the sound of Sunny shoving the door open and Cheyenne yapping and panting behind her. Why Cheyenne yaps so much is beyond Trudy. He gets plenty of attention, both from Sunny and the other townsfolk. Lots of Nevadans are dog people, Trudy thought to herself while washing her face in the bathroom. But not me. They're loud, messy, hungry, and their hair gets all over everything. But Cheyenne is a good hunting dog, and I can't hate anything that makes Sunny so happy. Besides, he knows better than to jump up on the couch and track mud on the cushions, or run into the kitchen and smash half a dozen gecko eggs all over the floor. (Sunny was so embarrassed when that happened - before Trudy could even shoo Cheyenne out, Sunny was already carrying him out the door, and coming back in with a bucket of water and a mop. That night, after dinner, Sunny nervously asked if this meant Cheyenne had to stay outside, to which Trudy replied "Of course not! Just please, PLEASE, train him to stay out of the kitchen." Sunny still looked anxious, so Trudy hugged her, kissing the top of her head. "C'mon, Sunny. It ain't your fault, and it's not really Cheyenne's fault either. That's just what dogs are like, the little messy assholes." Sunny laughed, and that was that.)

By the time Trudy finished reminiscing, she was fully dressed and heading for the kitchen. There was a stack of three gecko eggs on the counter, and Sunny was busy sorting gecko meat into piles - the good cuts would become gecko steak and jerky, the rest would go to sausage. Trudy could smell the hides outside, hanging behind the house waiting to be tanned. It was exactly like every morning, down to the sweet mixture of relief and joy and love Trudy felt when she saw Sunny had made it home safe.

"Morning, sunshine! How many this time?"

"Four, and Cheyenne found a nest just west of Sloan, so we can have omelettes again." 

"Don't head too far north, Sunny. Not sure how far those Deathclaws from the 15 wander from their nest."

"It's all right, Trudy, Cheyenne can smell them a mile off." Trudy could see Cheyenne in the living room, wagging his tail proudly, but careful to stay a safe distance from the kitchen threshold. 

"Don't press your luck, Sunny." 

"I won't."

"Damn right you won't," replied Trudy with a grin. 

11 AM: The Prospector Saloon has been open for three hours already. After the breakfast rush, Trudy had time to attend to her mayoral work. She took a quick look over the notes from the last town meeting. The only major issue was the proposal to rebuild the school house, now that there were enough families in Goodsprings to justify having one. Trudy led the group that cleaned out the inside, now she needed to find someone who could redo the wiring and fix the walls. Before she could think of any candidates, however, she was interrupted:

"Hello, beautiful, mind if I buy you a drink?"

Trudy rolled her eyes. "Sunny, we are MARRIED. You don't need to use cheesy lines on me."

Sunny giggled. "It's fun, though. See, Cheyenne agrees with me!" Trudy could hear snuffling dog-noises from under the bar. "Anyway, last week's hides are all packed up and ready. I'm just waiting on that Crimson Caravan guy to show for the pickup."

"Well, that's good to hear. He usually doesn't arrive until at least noon, though." 

"Well, then, Cheyenne and I are gonna keep you company, then. You need a hand back there?" 

2 PM: Trudy locked the door of the Saloon behind her, and nodded to Easy Pete, in his regular chair on the porch. 

"Back by three?" he asked.  
"Yep."  
"If anyone comes by I'll let 'em know"  
"Thanks."

Trudy opened the door to a quiet house. Cheyenne was curled up in a corner, the gecko meat from the morning was cleaned and stored away in the icebox, and Sunny was nowhere to be seen. Trudy headed into the bedroom to find Sunny face down, her body halfway off the bed, snoring gently. She must be exhausted, Trudy thought, she's still in her armor. Trudy picked her up and carefully lifted her fully onto the bed. Sunny yawned and smiled sleepily. 

"Thankstrudyiloveyou," She mumbled. 

"Love you too, Sunny." 

"Imcatchyouadeathclaw. Pet deathclaw. Itsforyourbirthday. So cool."

Trudy didn't know what to say to that, but she had a hard time not laughing.

7PM: Dinner that night was gecko fajitas with onions and jalapeños (Sunny's idea) with a dessert of cactus fruit pie and meringue (Trudy's idea). Trudy filled Sunny in on all the news she'd heard, whether it was gossip from the Saloon or reporting by Radio New Vegas. Sunny nodded indifferently at the gossip, but was excited to hear the latest news from Vegas: the Courier had decided to assign Securitrons to highway patrol duties.

"Finally, those Viper and Jackal assholes will back off and stop mugging people!" She said, cutting herself a slice of pie. 

"Well, I hope so," Trudy replied. "I'm glad that courier turned out to be all right. She seems to have quite the head for politics, and things have certainly become safer and quieter around here."

Sunny ruminated for a bit.

"You know, if you can find someone to watch the Saloon, maybe we could do a weekend in Vegas. You know, cocktails, fancy hotel room, a few bets at the roulette tables, a show at the Tops..."

"We're not made of money, Sunny. We can do a hotel room and a show, but I'm not paying a hundred caps for watery cocktails, and I don't trust those casinos. I bet you anything those games are all rigged."

"So no trip to Vegas?"

"Of course we can go to Vegas. But we're bringing some decent liquor along, and if you want to gamble, we're playing poker in Vault 21 - it ain't legal, but it ain't rigged like the casinos either."

9 PM. Everything was cleaned up and locked down for the night. Cheyenne was asleep at the foot of the bed (and probably shedding all over the floor, but Trudy opted to ignore that) and Sunny was climbing into bed next to Trudy, pulling over her half of the sheets.

"You doin' all right, Sunny?"

"Yeah, just dog tired is all. You all right?" 

Trudy wrapped her arm around Sunny's back and pulled her close. "Never been better."

1AM: Sunny wakes up, intending to hunt geckos like the night before. But Trudy still has her arms around her, and their legs are tangled together. She's warm and comforting and wonderful, and last night's gecko hunt was better than usual, and Sunny can afford to skip a night . . .

"Sunny? You leaving?"

Sunny thinks it over for a few seconds. "I'm taking tonight off. Need to catch up on my sleep."

"Mkay." Trudy rolled over, and Sunny took the opportunity to cuddle closer to her, wrapping her arms tight around Trudy's waist.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this FKM prompt: http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/7011.html?thread=19010915 
> 
> I have a hard time believing I'm the first to write about this ship on AO3. Well, the world always needs more rarepairs.
> 
> Let me clarify that I LOVE dogs. It's just that Trudy doesn't. She just isn't a dog person.


End file.
